


We Can Change

by flotsam45



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M, Transphobia, set in the 20s, transboy!steve, warnings for transphobic slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 23:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10449615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flotsam45/pseuds/flotsam45
Summary: Steve Rogers had left Brooklyn years ago, leaving behind his past as Stephanie Grant, but has now returned, and is searching for a roommate.Revised RP from May 2015.





	

This was just his luck, wasn’t it? After everything he’d been through in the last few years: changing his name from Stephanie Grant as he’d been christened and becoming Steven Rogers, moving from Brooklyn to somewhere else in New York only to move back again four years later as a completely different person, gone was the petite women with the pretty dresses replaced by a weak man with suits and trousers, not to mention watching his mother die with no one beside him to help him through it. After everything that Steve had gone through to get to a point where he actually was trying to find someone to flat share with, where he was confident enough in his binders and his appearance to find someone to flat share with, this was just his luck.

 

When someone had responded to his advertisement he’d put in at the local hall he certainly hadn’t expected it to be his high school sweetheart; a man who he was sure a part of him would always love, no matter what happened. There was something about Bucky Barnes that he’d been drawn to from the moment he met him, they’d been inseparable since they were children and if Steve had been anything close to normal then he was sure they still would be together, maybe even married by now. But well—

 

Bucky had fallen in love with Stephanie Grant, Bucky had been adamant on marrying a girl who didn’t exist anymore, not the boy who had taken her place. Steve broke it off because he knew Bucky would think he was a freak if he knew the truth and he’d come to terms with that decision. Yet now here Bucky was, moving into the small apartment with Steve Rogers, the guy who Stephanie Grant had become and oh god- what would he think when he found out? No doubt he would at some point and that fact terrified Steve. He was sat, fidgeting on the couch when Bucky finally sat down next to him, “Okay, all my stuff’s moved in.” he said finally, “We’re officially roommates.”

 

Steve heaved in a sigh, picking up his inhaler and taking a shot before nodding, trying to smile, painfully aware of his binder, “Yeah. Yeah, we’re roommates, James, I guess. Uh – so, do you want me to make dinner or…something?”

 

It had taken three years and several girlfriends for Bucky to get over Steph. And even when he did...he didn't. How could he? He'd always love that girl, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why she'd left. She'd given him the cliched line that it wasn't him, it was her, and then...she'd just disappeared altogether. And now, he was moving into a flat with some guy because he couldn't afford to pay rent on his own. It was kinda pathetic compared to the old Bucky he used to be, but he couldn't bring himself to really care anymore. There were no girls like Steph worth putting up a strong front for.

 

Looking over at the small man sitting beside him, he quirked an eyebrow and smiled a little. "You cook?" he asked, a little surprised. He considered this, and then shrugged. "Sure, if you're up for it."

 

Steve stared down at himself, at his body. He could practically feel all the places that Bucky had touched over the years, could feel the hands that had run over his body back when they were just teenagers and he thought that maybe, maybe Bucky would be a forever. This wasn't going to work, living with Bucky wasn't going to work. He knew that. He looked different sure, but it was still Stephs eyes, still Stephs face, just...different now. "Yeah, I cook." he said, most guys didn't know how, but of course, he hadn't been raised a guy. Steve got up, moving towards the kitchen. He'd make some stew. Bucky had always liked his strew. "So, uh," he muttered, unsure what to say, "What's your life like? I guess...." he bit his lip, "I guess we should learn some stuff about each other now we live together."

 

"My life is like anybody else's, I guess." Bucky replied rather vaguely. He didn't know how much he was supposed to admit. "Got a job as a delivery boy and another as a mover. 'M not good for much else other than my muscle, y'know?" He offers a laugh. "I never was real good at school stuff. Always relied on St-..." He caught himself reminiscing a little too much. "Steph. She's...was. She was... A friend." He shook his head. Surely Steve didn't want to hear him blabber about his lost love. "What about you? What's your life like?" he asked, though he had to admit that he wasn't exactly interested in finding out.

 

A friend. That's what Bucky was calling him now, what he had been, just a friend. That wasn't completely fair, he could hear the pain in Bucky’s voice- god he'd put that there, instilled that pain. Honestly though, it had been years, Steve had just assumed that Bucky would have moved on by now, found someone else to wear the ring Steve knew Bucky had bought the night before he left. It was what had pushed him to finally leave - knowing Bucky was planning on proposing. He couldn't live a lie his whole life, nor could he let Bucky unwittingly marry a man when all he wanted was a pretty dame. Steve tried to smile through the fog of memories as he started cutting up the vegetables, "Oh. Not much. Went to school in Brooklyn but left about- five years ago now? Now I'm back though, not all that much to say for myself." He shrugged, "No dame or nothing. What about you? Got yourself a woman?" That was something men asked each other right? It felt wrong asking Bucky it though- probably because he still cared far too much about that big jerk.

 

Bucky cringed despite himself, and forced out a chuckle. Leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, he shook his head. "Nah, not anymore." he murmured. "Used to." He didn't say much more than that. How was he supposed to admit that his girl had just run off without an explanation? That she'd broken his heart and he'd never really recovered? He sighed to himself, and looked over to Steve. "You remind me of her." he admitted quietly.

 

Of course he did. You could change your gender, make others believe the lie, but just looking at Steve- if you'd known Stephanie you could see: the same eyes, the same tone of voice, only a little deeper than it had been back then, the same shape of face. But people saw what they expected to see usually, and he was pretty sure Bucky wasn't expecting to see his high school sweetheart as a boy in his apartment, so yeah, he'd made the connection, but not the _connection._ Luckily. "I remind you of a dame?" he forced out, trying to laugh, but it came out a little flat as he began chucking the ingredients into a pan, "I hope that's a compliment and not you calling me unmanly or something," he bit his lip, "But hey, maybe she was family or something. I have a few cousins." Lies. He'd only ever had Bucky and his Ma but that was that. "I'm sorry you lost her."

 

A wistful smile came to Bucky's lips, and there was a distant look to his eyes as he  dug up more and more memories of Steph, some things he hadn't thought of in years - or rather, he hasn't let himself think of in years. He waved off the apologetic sympathy absentmindedly. "Its-...It’s fine," It went without saying that Bucky didn't actually believe that. "Its just...I thought I'd marry her, y'know? Thought we'd get married and have a couple of kids, and live out our days together." He laughed, but it was without mirth. "Guess she had other plans, huh?" He ran a hand down his face. "Sorry, don't mind me. 'S stupid, pining after a girl who left me years ago. She just meant a lot t' me." He paused, and looked down at the floor. "I just hope she's happy now."

 

Steve _hurt._ It hurt, the idea of Bucky hurting because of him, of never really getting over him, of planning out this whole life with a wedding and kids. It was the exact reason why he couldn't do this to him though, why he couldn't be with Bucky. There were no kids for him, no chance of marriage. He didn't speak for a moment, sorting out the cooking. Right, now all that was left was to wait half an hour and it would be ready. He turned back to Bucky, nodding, "It's fine. You shouldn't feel bad for having emotions." He looked down at his toes, feeling his own memories flood behind his eyes. His own memories of Bucky, of the life they almost lived together. "it was obviously her loss. You're a wonderful man." he glanced up at him, "I'm sure she didn't what to leave you. I had a ma- _girl_ once." Shit, he'd said man. The last thing he needed was for Bucky to accuse him of being queer or something, "I didn't wanna leave her but I kinda had to. So I didn't hurt her." He shrugged, "maybe your dame still cares about you. Can't imagine a fella like you is easy to get over."

 

"Maybe." Bucky sighed, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to really notice Steve's slip up. He knew he ought to shift the focus of the conversation to Steve more -- if he were to dwell any longer on what-ifs of Stephanie, he'd probably have to drink himself to sleep. "What's your story? With your girl, I mean."

 

"Oh, my girl-" he looked away, hardly a girl. Bucky was as manly as they came, in a good way, purebred American boy with a heart of gold if he wanted to use it. "She was real handsome. I wanted to marry ‘em, I really did. But- I guess in life, a lot of things come down to a weighing scale, you know - what matters more? And well- he- I mean _she_ mattered to me, but if I'd have stayed-- we'd both have been living lies. They still matters a lot to me, but I left them because some things- some things mattered more." He'd always hated that. That some things had mattered more to him than Bucky, well, one thing. His gender. And it wasn't even that it mattered more, it was just the fact that he couldn't live with being a girl anymore. It was dragging him down a road that just...wasn't his to walk down. "I miss them every day."

 

This time, Bucky was paying closer attention to Steve's words. Of course, he didn't point it out just yet. He hummed in acknowledgement. Maybe.... Maybe Steph -wherever she was- was wishing for things to have been different as well. Maybe she had had some circumstances that wouldn't allow her to stay with Bucky. This idea felt much kinder to him than his own thoughts of him wronging Stephanie without realizing. He let out a soft chuckle. "Do you regret it? Leaving her...? Or are you...happy with the decision you made?"

 

"I'll always regret it," Steve said quietly, "You don't walk away from the love of your life and not regret it. But I made- I think I'd make the decision again given the choice. I made the right choice.  But I'm not happy with it. Does that make sense?" He moved towards the kitchen table, picking up one of his sketchbooks as a means to pass the time until the food was ready. Honestly this was the most surreal conversation he'd ever had, telling Bucky he'd always regret leaving him without Bucky realising who he was.

 

Bucky listened, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I...I guess so." He sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. All this talk of regretting things or not was making him second guess his decisions all those years ago. He needed to distract himself from overthinking -- looking over at Steve, he blinked, watching as the man picked up a sketchbook. Steve drew too? This guy was seeming less and less typical by the second. A small smirk coming to his lips, he leaned forward, eyes still on Steve. "What'cha doing?" he asked sounding rather childish.

 

"Sketching, Buck, people do that ya know," Steve replied automatically, sensing the shift in mood. This was Bucky saying _I don't want to talk about all this anymore_ , and honestly Steve was happy to oblige. It felt too weird. Too close to the truth to talk about such things. He didn't want Bucky to know, it was better if he just sketched and they forgot about each other. His hand moved idly over the page, slowly filling in one of his pictures.

 

Bucky hummed in acknowledgement, and was about to turn away to find something else to occupy his thoughts, when he realized something rather odd. Steve had called him 'Buck'. Bucky couldn't even remember telling Steve to call him Bucky, nor were they even remotely close enough for Steve to call him 'Buck'. The last person and the only person to call him by that nickname so affectionately had disappeared years ago...

 

Bucky stood abruptly, eyes wide, trying to fit the final pieces of the puzzle together. Steph had left him four years ago. Steve...Steve had said he'd left around the same time, hadn't he? ...she? This wasn't making much sense. If Steph was Steve... Why was Steph Steve? "Steve?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

 

Steve's eyes raised up from his picture, confusion lining his face, "Uh...yeah?" he asked,  although it didn't really sound like a question, which was the odd thing, it sounded like Bucky was confused but something, really confused. Confused by what? Steve glanced down towards his sketch, but it just portrayed one of the alleys of the city, no trace of Bucky or anything that could be deemed suspicious. His heart started beating just a fraction faster: had he been figured out? How? Surely Bucky didn't know....

"What's up?"

 

Bucky could barely form a coherent sentence. "You called me 'Buck'...?" he breathed awkwardly. "No one's called me 'Buck' since....since Stephanie." He swallowed thickly. Could this really be her? "I didn't even tell you my nickname was Bucky..." He felt his voice begin to waver. "Are you...Steph?" He wanted to believe that the small man before him couldn't possibly his high school sweetheart. He didn't want to think that Steph had run off to...to become a man. But...at the same time, part of him knew that this had to be it -- this had to be what Steph-...Steve? had talked about running away for.

 

Shit. Shit. He hadn't even lasted twenty four hours of Bucky being here without doing something stupid. They'd been in contact for a little under two weeks and not once had Bucky told him anything other than that his name was James. "I-" he didn't know what to say. How do you respond to something like that? His eyes glanced away, "It's Steve. I told you that. It- I-" he stared off for a second, desperately unsure where to go from there.

 

"Please, I just need to know." Bucky said, no longer able to hide the desperation in his voice. "You're Steph, aren't you? I-...." His voice faltered, and he quickly snapped his mouth shut, trying to regain what little composure he could. "Please, I don't-..." God, he felt like crying. It was ridiculous how easily Steph still had the power to make a mess of him.

 

Steve sighed. It had been years. They shouldn't be like this anymore, wasn't time supposed to mend broken hearts? Honestly, Steve just felt a hell of a load more broken as the days had gone on. He pushed the notebook away, closing it up, setting his pencil down to stop himself chewing on the end. There was an extent to how much he could lie to Bucky without going insane. "Yeah," he whispered, "Yeah. I was." his fingers tapped on the table, "Come on, Buck. Don't need to start crying on me now, right?" He looked up at the other man, trying - and failing - to produce a light smile.

 

Bucky let out a whoosh of air, and before he could stop himself, he took a few steps forward, and wrapped his arms around Steve. Burying his face in the crook of Steve's neck he took a shuddering breath, the exhale just as shaky, but somehow resembling a laugh. He couldn't believe how ridiculously blind he'd been. All the signs had been there. He just hadn't been looking hard enough. This tiny figure in his arms, while definitely more masculine, was still like the Stephanie he remembered. Bucky had already thought back on everything that Steve had said -- about the "girl" he loved that he had to leave for their sake, and...

"One more question... Did you mean what you said?" he rasped, sniffling quietly. "About regretting it?"

 

Steve was suddenly faced with an armful of Bucky, for a second he was tense, unsure where exactly to place his hands, until he heard the slight breath, in out, shaky, almost like a sob, Steve's hands moving to stroke what he had to hope was a comforting, calm pattern through Bucky's hair. "Of course," he replied immediately, sort of half smiling, though it was sad, "Although that really shouldn't be your only question- unless you’re dumber than I remember, Barnes." He drew his hands back, letting them fall in his lap. While he'd never heard of a girl doing this before, he knew he'd probably be chucked away in jail with the fags for it.

 _Freak_ \- that's what he was. Nothing but a freak and shit, now Bucky would _know_ that. Bucky most likely thought this was for a job or something, so he wasn't treated as a weak and fragile female - how would he feel when he found out he, who was supposed to be a she - was really a boy because he just- he just _wasn't_ a girl.

 

Bucky couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. "Well you're just as cheeky as I remember." he muttered, pulling away almost reluctantly. His eyes traveled over this person in front of him, and honestly it felt like he was seeing this 'Steve' for the first time ever. All he could see was the girl he once knew and still loved. "So....you're... different." he started slowly. From the lack of breasts to the short cropped hair, 'Steve' looked...well, like a guy. For the most part.

 

It felt weird. Honestly, to have Bucky's eyes on him again but this time, looking for the girl beneath the man: he knew that what hr was doing, knew it was hard to find. Steve had worked hard to cover up the girl he once was, worked hard to become who he really was, it wouldn't work at all if it wasn't believable. "Different," Steve nodded, feeling the blush of Bucky's attention flowering his face. "Yes." He nodded again. "I'm not- I mean-" he bit his lip, standing up to gently push Bucky away a little, but only to take his cooking off the hob, "It's hard to explain, Buck. Thought I'd- thought you'd have gotten over me by now- found a nice girl...a better girl..."

 

"You kiddin' me? You're the love of my life, Steph. There's no way I'd be able to find anyone better that you..." Bucky so wanted to reach out and cup her face in his hands as he used to but...he allowed himself to be pushed backwards.

 

"Don't call me that," Steve snapped, the name sounding oh so wrong, like trying to pull on a shirt that just didn't fit. He immediately regretted it though, turning back to offer a sympathetic smile, an apology, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That's just not- no one calls me Steph. I'm sorry." He quickly glanced away, "Just- I told you. My name’s Steve. Steve Rogers."

 

"Alright, S-...Steve. Okay..." Bucky swallowed. "Okay, so you're..." He paused. He didn't actually know how to finish that sentence. "What _are_ you, exactly?" The question wasn't accusatory or anything -- it was a genuine question Bucky wanted an answer to.

 

Steve looked away, trying to hide his shame, "I'm- a man." Steve said, the words sounding suddenly so damn stupid, this whole thing sounding so damn stupid. All those thoughts he'd had all those years ago, about being stupid, a freak, about all this being a sin, being against God’s will, they all came back to him, making his hands shake ever so lightly, "Bucky- I-" he'd had to go through all this alone, when he'd tried to tell his mother not even she had understood, what hope did Bucky have of understanding? He forced to get himself to smile, but didn't feel it, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, like a disease or something, it hurt so much, Bucky was going to call him a freak, he was going to hate him- he was- Steve turned away, "Maybe I should move out." He tried again, quietly, "Neither of us want this. I don't-"

 

"What? No, St-...Steve, you can't just leave." Bucky's hand shot out to hold... Steve by the shoulder. "I mean, we just got moved in and all..." He let out a heavy sigh. He knew just as well as Steve must that that was a stupid excuse. "Please don't leave. Not...not again."

 

He could hear the pain in Bucky's voice, and it cut him right down to the bone, made him lean into that hand on his shoulder, lean back against the solid heat that was James Buchanan Barnes, "I'm sorry," Steve whispered quietly, again, as if it would mean something this time, "I know- I know you were planning to propose, I found the ring and everything. It was beautiful. Bet you paid more than you shoulda for it," he stared up at Bucky for a second, before glancing away, "I missed you. I did. I just- I'm just such a _freak_ Bucky, don't you see? Such a damn....can't even....just _look_ at me, Bucky. Just _look."_

 

Bucky was silent for a long while, just trying to think everything over. Steve was right in some respect. There was no denying this was....weird. "Maybe you're right. Maybe...maybe you are a freak, Steve. I'm gonna be honest with you, I don't get it. Any of this. Why you became a guy. But..." He sighed heavily, giving Steve's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But before you were my girl, you were my best friend. So...I want to understand. You. I want to understand this new you." he breathed. And he meant every word.

 

There was no denying he hated it, Bucky's voice wrapped around the word _freak_. But he couldn't help not understanding this, couldn't help worrying about it, he knew that, knew that it wasn't really Bucky's fault. Everything here was on Steve, and the fact that he wanted to understand, wanted Steve to explain everything so he did understand, that was- that was- well. He knew there was a reason he loved Bucky Barnes. "Come sit down?" he asked quietly, moving out of Bucky's grasp to sit on the couch.

"So....so..." he trailed off, "I can explain. Uh, you're not gonna like it, I don't think. But if you'll refrain from having me thrown in prison or telling anyone I'm a freak- or telling them I'm a girl- that'd be great. You don't even gotta talk to me again, if you don't want. You just- my life's sorta maybe on the upside now. I don't want that to change."

 

Bucky nodded real slow. He wanted to understand, no matter how crazy this sounded. "Alright, shoot." he murmured, taking his place beside Steve. He wouldn't dare do any of what Steve had said. That...would be too cruel. And Bucky could never betray the girl he loved like that -- even if she wasn't a she anymore.

 

"Okay, so-" he looked around, as if the room could give him answers on how to phrase this correctly, on how to work this out in a way that would make sense. His eyes landed, absently, on the window, just outside a dame walking by in a dress, and _yes,_ okay that was how he would explain it, "Imagine...okay, so you're a kid right. And all of a sudden, everyone starts calling you their precious little girl, and making you wear dresses. Even as a kid that'd feel weird, right? Like...like someone was forcing you into a shirt that fit to tight. But what if they kept doing it, what if you got a girlfriend, and all they did was call you their nice precious 'girl' and what if they bought you dresses and then you had to wear them and go out in public with them on. That'd be humiliating, wouldn't it?" he asked quietly, "Of course it would be. Your own Ma calling you princess and putting makeup on you when you're a boy, you know you are, and you just don't get why no one else see's it. And  you want to scream it but you can't and-" he cut off. "That's been my life. For years. _Years_ Buck." he stared away, "everyone saw a girl when there's not one here. It- it was awful."

 

Bucky felt more horrified than anything. What Steve described sounded like a bad nightmare, and at first, Bucky thought it would just be annoying, but as he thought on the fact that this treatment had lasted years and years from everyone - even Bucky - it could only seem like a lifelong punishment to have to live through it. Just hearing it sounded wrong. Bucky was at a loss for words. "I'm... I'm so sorry." he said at last. "That's just..." He shook his head. It seemed like such a crazy idea, but...it was what Steve had been put through as Stephanie. And Bucky wouldn't ever wish something as awful as that on someone so precious to him.

 

"No, _I'm-_ I'm sorry," Steve whispered, "I realise that- I realise that I'm not- that this isn't anything normal. I get- I mean that's what it felt like, but biologically- well, come on Buck, I don't gotta tell you what I got under my trousers, you're perfectly aware," he blushed just a little at simple memories, like his first time with Bucky, "and I- I mean, that's something kinda awful for me. I live with it, but just staring down at myself and knowing that I- that I- that I don't have a dick. It's....that's worse than having to go outside wearing a dress." he shrugged, "But I can deal with that part. It's just-" he glanced away, his hands were shaking again, damn it, "And I...I know it makes me a freak to feel this way but....oh, God Buck, it's been so hard. I had to leave you. Not even Ma got it. I- I had to leave Brooklyn because of this. I had to leave everything I classed as home."

 

Bucky resisted the urge to lean over and being Steve into his arms and just hold him. "Christ, Steve, I-... I honestly can't imagine how terrible and just...awful that must have been. But... I'm glad you're back, Steve. And I'm glad we're here together again." he said quietly, carefully reaching over and taking Steve's small hand in both his own. "I'm real sorry you had to go through that, and...I'm glad you were able to do this. I'm glad you left me when you did. I wouldn't want you to be stuck in a life you didn't want."

 

Steve glanced up when Bucky took his hands, confusion bubbling deep within him, but Bucky hadn't kicked him out yet, and all Steve had heard was kind words, nice words, words he couldn't have hoped for when he'd first seen Bucky rounding the corner a little over a week ago. "I know. It was better this way- for both of us. You're not queer, I know that. I didn't want you married to a boy in a dames body either."  He shrugged, clutching Bucky’s hands, "Thanks for being understanding, it- it means a lot. That you're being nice about it."

 

Bucky let out a weak laugh, and shook his head. "I just... I worried for a long time, y'know? After you disappeared. But now you're back and you've explained it and it makes sense, so... I'm just glad I got to hear it." He hesitated, a question that had been at the back of his mind from the moment he realized that Steve had been Steph wanting to come forth now that he had most of the answers he'd been searching for for the past few years. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

 

"Anything," whispered, "Anything at all." He'd answer it. He'd just told Bucky The Secret it wasn't exactly like their was much more to say, much more to add. Bucky could ask him anything and he'd answer honestly. He knew he would, because for the most part Bucky knew everything about him now. Every. Little. Thing.

 

Bucky ran his thumbs over Steve's hand in thought, trying to figure out how he could ask what he wanted to ask. "So I'm a guy, and you're... a guy. But you dated me, right? So back then, did you like girls? I just- I don't get that part, 'cause you were with me, but if you felt like you were a guy back then too, does that mean you're...gay?" This was sounding a lot more confusing than Bucky intended. "Wait, lemme try that again. Uhhh... You-...you loved me back then?" he asked awkwardly.

 

Oh. Steve blinked. "I like both." He said simply, it had always been simple to him, a girl could turn his head just as easily as a guy. "Both. Yes- of course I loved you, Buck. How can you even _ask_ that question? Did I ever give you any reason to think I didn't- I- I loved you with every single part of me, Buck."

 

The pure earnestness and hurt in Steve's voice made Bucky regret asking. "No, I know, that was- I'm sorry. I know. I love you too. Did. I loved you. I-" He looked down. "I still do. But I just... I don't know anymore, Steve." He sighed, giving Steve's hand a gentle squeeze. "Sorry. I'm being dumb." He offered an apologetic smile to the man beside him.

 

"You have nothing to apologise for, Buck," Steve whispered, squeezing Bucky’s hand back, "You were my happiness in a time when there was no happiness in my life. You were my stability. I loved you. You made me feel normal- no, you made me feel _special_ \- not a freak but _special_. You gave me the best childhood and the best teenage years. But this- I'm not gonna sit here demanding you love me. Or want me. I get that you won't.... S'one of the reasons why I left. Just- I mean, I'd love to be your friend, Buck. Anything else is your call and I won't push you into it." He nodded firmly, standing up, "So- yeah. Thanks for- understanding. No pressure for me to still be your babydoll. Got it?"

 

"Yeah. I get it. And I'm more than happy to just be a friend to you. But I... I'm still in love with Steph," Bucky murmured. "And I want to say that I still love you even though you're not her, but I don't know if I-... I don't know." He looked at Steve curiously. "You... Do you still want to be? With me, I mean?" Bucky asked tentatively.

 

Steve swallowed, sitting down again, a little closer, "This doesn't- Bucky I'm not a different person. Gender, yeah, but person? I still draw and cook, still willing to throw a few punches against some bullies. I- I'm still- everything that we went through, that was still _me_." He glanced away, "I love you. Yes I'd be with you. Do you even have to ask? I just- I just- there's no future for fags, Buck. No wedding or kids. And don't lie to me, you want all that stuff. I know you do. So yes, I'd be with you again in a heartbeat but- that doesn't have to mean anything."

 

Bucky knew that Steve was right - he did want that sort if future. Or at least, he had, back when he'd had Steph. After she'd left, though, his life had turned out more or less aimless. "Yeah, okay...I mean- It’s just..." If this man before him was still Steph, but just now _Steve_ ..."I still love you, too." He shook his head a little. "This is...a lot to take in. I'm need some time. Is that- Is that okay? It's just- Before you left, yeah, getting married and having kids was my dream, but it was my dream for _our_ future. That dream...has no point if you're not in my life. And, y'know, dreams can change."

 

Steve felt unable to move for a moment,  stood completely unsure next to Bucky. "I can give you time." He murmured, "And if- no matter what I'll still be here. I'll still be yours - I mean, best pal, love of your life, whatever. Whatever you'll let me be." He bit his lip, "But, uh, I'd like to- I mean can I just- I just missed you. A lot. Can I hug you again? Please. It's- Jesus Buck, I _missed_ you. I went from seeing you every day to never thinking I'd see you again. It wasn't- the easiest thing."

 

"Can you- Christ, Steve, of course you can-" Bucky stood, taking the smaller man in his arms without hesitation before he could even finish his sentence. "Course you can _hug_ me. I missed you too, ya dork..." he mumbled fondly.

 

"Thank you- thank you- jesus, Buck." He managed to get out. He knew he smelt different, no longer covered in that flowery perfume he'd always worn in his time before. But Bucky smelt the same, like home and love and everything else he'd come to associate with over the years, "Thank you for calling me Steve. I- fuck. I just thought you'd hate me. For this. And you _don't_ which is- I'm stupid. I shoulda told you years ago."

 

Bucky gave a shuddering laugh, and ran his hands along Steve's back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "You are, and you shoulda." He sniffled. Of course, he had no way of being sure that if Steve had told him back then that this was the situation, I'd he would have believed him or even taken him seriously, but...he wanted to think that he would have supported then-Steph.

 

"I'm sorry. Forgive me?" Steve asked quietly, arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck, holding on tightly. He almost felt like dancing with him, going over to their crappy little stereo, finding their song - the first song they'd ever danced to - and putting it on. Oh how he remembered that day: that day on the dancefloor, Steve only just fifteen years old, his best friend holding out a hand, 'can I have this dance' - and Steve had kind of thought he was joking, because they were best friends, they'd never been anything more, but he went anyway, into his arms, and it had just felt so right....so right to lean up and kiss him....so right to whisper a quiet 'I love you, Barnes'... and it would be so easy to do it again... but Bucky had said he'd needed time so he did no such thing, just nodded and held on tighter "Please."

  
"Of course I forgive you." Bucky breathed. All sorts of could-have-been's were running through his head, but he ignored them, rather focusing on what the could be now. "Of course. Always." he murmured.


End file.
